They hadn't moved from the bedroom since Dr. Clarkson had delivered the news.

While papa and mama and Granny had gone downstairs to discuss the matter further with the doctor Mary and Matthew had remained in the guest bedroom, Mary in her frumpy ugly night clothes lying in a strange bed while Matthew remained curled up in what she dimly realized now must have been a horribly uncomfortable chair. Sybil and Edith had remained for a time before they had finally drifted away; something Mary was eternally grateful for. Not because she was mad at that, far from it. For once her and Edith weren't at war with each other nor was the middle Crawley smothering her with attention. No, Edith had been struck with a sense of… disillusionment over the whole thing. That the world could be so cruel and cold and that even with all their money, with their titles, with the weight of Downton behind them… they could still face horrors.

She'd been shaken before by what had happened. She was shaken even learning just how much worst it could have possibly become.

She had drifted off first, stating that she wanted to wander the Village a bit and collect her thoughts, mentioning to Matthew that she wanted to see if her new subscription to The Sketch had arrived. She'd been doing that a lot recently and Mary didn't quite understand why. Same as when they went into London; where of course all the girls loved the time in the sprawling city Edith had attacked it with a ferocity that startled the rest of the family. She had begun to show an interest in the modern world, with Mary finding her reading more about current events than she had in the past. She'd thought about mocking her for it but Sybil had shot her a dark look and Mary had wisely bit her tongue.

'How is it that darling Sybil suddenly feels like the eldest sister of the three of us?' Mary thought. 'She saved me Pamuk, she keeps Edith and I from fighting… it is like 10 years have gone by for her in the span of a day.' She'd even left them to inform Bates that her parents had received shocking news and that while the staff could expect to need food for at least granny and Cousin Isobel that something simple would be needed as none of them would be in the mood for tails and 8 course meals. Where it should have been Mary who took command of the house while her parents dealt with the fallout of Kemal Pamuk's death instead it was her baby sister who was taking command.

"How do you feel?"

Mary, startled from her thoughts, looked not to Matthew but down at the duvet, running her fingers along the stitching, carefully following the slowly curling pattern as is snaked back and forth until her fingers couldn't reach out any further. She'd never really notice it before, how complex something that appeared so basic and simple truly was. There was a lesson there or a metaphor but frankly she didn't have the energy to look. "It's funny, you know? It seems nowadays so many people begin conversations with me asking how I feel. How am I dealing with Patrick's death? With you coming to Downton? With failing to find a husband? Feel, feel, feel. Despite how many times I tell people that I don't have feelings... I'm above such things… they just keep asking. You'd think one of these days someone would finally listen."

"When I was five years old I used to tell people I was a wizard," Matthew stated rather simply. "Insisted on it. My mother even made me a wizard's cap out of cloth."

Mary rolled her eyes and gave a small huff. "Yes yes, your point is taken."

"If it is taken then tell me what it is."

"Why?"

"Because with you, Mary, I like to make sure you know what people are trying to get across than give you a way to later on deny you did."

She let out a huff, annoyed that he had... pretty much read what she was going to do correctly. It was so utterly annoying that he knew her so well and could predict her moods and actions.

'Annoying... and oddly sweet,' she admitted to herself before letting out a huff. "Just because I declare something doesn't make it true. Even if I believe it true it doesn't make it true."

"And thus I want to know how you feel about this..." Matthew waved his hand about.

"You mean the man that attempted to violate me dying of a drug overdose... and having clearly planned to attempt to get me to sample some of those vile concoctions along with him? To perhaps join him in death with a needle in my arm? Oh, not a bother at all." Mary asked scathingly. Matthew wilted slightly at her fierceness and Mary felt a twinge of regret. "Matthew, please don't... my anger is not directed towards you." She looked down at the duvet once more, her fingers twitching and hands fluttering like doves trying to shake dew from their feathers. "I don't know who my anger is directed at anymore."

"Talk it out, Mary. It does no good to keep such things bottled up."

"How middle-class of you," she said, the retort so automatic she didn't even need to think about it. But it lacked the normal sting that it had and if she were honest with herself her favored insult had gone from a sharp blade she used to try and pierce his heart and more of a pillow that she swung at his smug face. "Though perhaps that is what is needed. After all it wasn't a middle class lawyer who..." Her jaw worked and she began to plow through with her thoughts, letting them spill from her lips has they hadn't done before. Or, at the very least, as they hadn't done since she was a child in pigtails. "I remember when I was young, I think Sybil had just begun to walk or at least squirm about with what Papa and Mama liked to claim was walking, Rev. Travis giving a series of sermons concerning the Seven Virtues. Do you remember them?"

Matthew rubbed the back of his head. "I admit I do not. I tend to lapse when it comes to going to church. My father was fond of saying 'If God created the world and sees us all why must we keep him caged in a small house? Life is the best celebration of his works and the best prayer to give him is to live honestly at all times, not one a week'."

Mary huffed but continued on without pestering him; he'd earned that much from her. "The Seven Virtues are the direct contrasts to the Seven Deadly Sins. Papa insisted we learn them and would at random times ask us what they were; if we got them right we got a lolly." She began to tick them off on her fingers. "Humility against pride, kindness against envy, abstinence against gluttony, chastity against lust, patience against anger, liberality against greed, and diligence against sloth."

"I dare say that is a rather long list."

"And hard to live by but when I was young all I cared about were the sweets." She smiled and Matthew chuckled at that. "Anyway, what matters is that one day Travis began to discuss other sins and other virtues that he felt deserved mention. Papa never asked about those... I suppose he thought Seven were enough on both counts. But I tried to memorize them, in case they would mean another treat. Jealousy and empathy, Cruelty and compassion. Things like that. One of the final ones was resentment and forgiveness. To allow old hurts to fester and never have release... or to let it go. The pain. The anger. Isn't that what the Lord's Prayer states?"

"'Forgive us for our trespasses,'" Matthew quoted. "'As we forgive those that trespass against us'. Is that the problem, Mary? You believe that you should forgive Mr. Pamuk now that he is dead but are unable to?" There was an odd edge to his voice and Mary realized that Matthew wasn't saying she should forgive him… in fact he seemed angry she would entertain such a notion!

"I can't forgive him and I won't but that isn't the problem, Matthew," Mary said, reaching down and fingering the edge of the duvet.

"It is alright to resent him... to hate him," Matthew said. "I hate him for what he nearly did and what he accomplished. There is a rather hot place in hell for his soul, I'm not afraid to state."

Mary smiled sadly at that; her family kept talking about 'what had almost happened' while forgetting that Kemal HAD managed to do some rather terrible things to her. It was nice that someone realized that just because he hadn't finished what he'd intended to do that didn't mean he hadn't started. That just because a blade might not end one's life didn't mean that it couldn't scar. Once more Matthew had proven to have far greater insight not just into who she was but what she needed.

"I can't even say that I resent him. I do, of course, do not think I am one of those women who believe that the fault is their own. I will not look back upon it all and see it as my fault and spend my days fretting what I did to 'lead him on'. Yet I also find that it isn't resentment that dwells in my heart." She turned and looked at him. "Does that surprise you? That Mary Crawley would not hold onto the bitterness like a child clutching their blanket."

"I have learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to you, Mary."

She let out a scoff but it was in good humor. "That is such a lawyer answer."

"Just a lawyer or a middle class lawyer?"

"Considering you will be the first upper class lawyer that I know of, with title and all, I can't honestly say. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see." The smile fell from her face as she thought once more on the topic they had started. "No, it isn't resentment or anger I feel in my heart. It... it is relief."

"And that is exactly what you should feel," Matthew argued. "Relief he is gone."

"But don't you see, Matthew?" Mary said, wringing her hands together and hating the stinging sensation that pricked at the corner of her eyes. It was a sign of weakness and Mary didn't want to feel weak, not now. Even if Matthew was, oddly enough, the only person at the moment she felt comfortable being weak in front of. "I don't feel relief for the world or for all the women that will be saved from him. I don't feel relief that Sybil will not fear Pamuk coming for her as he did me, to take upon her his revenge, or relief that Carson and William will be spared an iron cell for attacking a Turkish Ambassador. I only feel relief for myself! That is all I can focus on!" She threw her head back, both out of frustration and so that he couldn't see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "What kind of selfish, horrid woman am I that I can, even now, only focus on what this means for ME?"

"The kind that is human," Matthew said without hesitation. Mary let out a hiccupping laugh but Matthew seized her hand and with a squeeze silenced her protests. "I mean it, Mary. This isn't a case of you finding out that a train derailed and you are concerned about it delaying a package you wished to have. What you went through... you have earned the right to be selfish. To be mad or scared or whatever you wish to be! The world owes you that much! If you want to run about barefoot singing to the world your joy that... that the Turkish Prick is dead then I say do it and damn those that judge you! Because in this instance no one has the right to cast judgment on you. You have earned a reprieve."

And with that, to Mary's utter shock, Matthew climbed onto the bed next to her.

It was… wrong. Improper. Mary knew she should scream and scold him, telling him that it wasn't right for him, a man, to sit down beside her in her bed. It wasn't how the upper class did things and she was pretty sure it wasn't how the middle class did things either. It was brazen and impulsive on his part and she knew she needed to tell him that while they had become closer that hadn't given him the right to… lounge on her bed! But Mary also found that while it wasn't proper…

She didn't give a damn.

'What has proper gotten me?' she thought to herself as Matthew draped his arm around her shoulders and she allowed her head to slowly fall upon his shoulder, the tears that had been gathering in her eyes rolling down her cheeks. 'No true friends, as I was too busy playing my silly games to make them. No real future either… not like Sybil, who dreams of worlds she will conqueror and knowing her that is exactly what she'll do. No, all I have to look forward to is being a beautiful brood mare for whatever old man is forced upon me. The one fiancée I had was one I didn't much care for; I was only with him for the title. And titles make poor shields.' It wasn't proper what Matthew was doing and it certainly wasn't proper that she was snuggling up closer to him, drinking in the comfort he offered her. And she didn't care. 'Perhaps what I need is a bit of improper in my life.'

"So if you want to cry, just cry," Matthew said as he took her hand in his free one and gave it a soft squeeze. "It's just me and I won't tell a soul."

"And what if I don't want to cry?" Mary murmured, blinking away her tears. "What if I want to rant and rave and scream till I'm hoarse?"

"I will guard the door so no one disturbs you."

"And if I want to hit something?"

"I'll find the ugliest pillow I can and you can attack it. Perhaps get O'Brien to stitch Pamuk's likeness into it."

Mary laughed at that, wondering if she could honestly get away with such a request. "And if I want to laugh and sing and rejoice that I'm alive and he is dead?"

"Then you do that and more. I won't comment on your dancing skills."

"I'll have you know I am a wonderful dancer. You should know, you saw me at the servant's ball."

"I assumed it was Carson who was the skilled dancer and you just took his lead."

Mary smiled and looked down at their joined hands. "And… if I said that I wanted to start over with you?" She felt Matthew tense slightly at that, confused by what she meant. "I was so horrid to you when we first met. Already deciding that you were my enemy and that it was my duty to defeat you and humiliate you. And while you did tease me you never did anything that quite matched what I dreamed of doing to you. I… I just saw you are a thief, sneaking in and taking what was mine… and it kept me from seeing who you truly were." She let out a shuddering sigh. "The time wasted. What could have been if I had just been nicer to you?" Mary pulled up from his shoulder but she didn't wiggle out from under his arm; no, she merely moved so she could look him in the eye. "I would have us start over again, so that ugliness could be put behind us."

Matthew shook his head though and for a moment she felt dread in her heart. "But I don't want to start again, Mary. It is your spirit that I enjoy so much, that made me see that you were someone I wanted in my life. You think you came off as horrid and perhaps to someone else that would have been the case but to me… to me I knew why you felt as you did and I never begrudged you. In fact I found it quite wonderful. How many women, in your position, would have come to me and would have begged for aid? Embarrassed and disgraced themselves by throwing their pride and dignity away in hopes of convincing their cousin to ensure their future? Or worse?" He didn't need to say the words… Mary had heard whispers of high born ladies who, when they reached the end of their proper courting ages and neared the time of accepting they would be only a spinster, would use the carnal lust of men to convince someone, anyone, to take them. Those stories had never been confirmed but Mary was willing to wager that more than one person her parents called friend had snuck into a lord's room and given their bodies up as payment for a bit of security.

She'd wondered, in the darkest moments of the last few months, when it felt like the walls of her room had become her cage and the shadows were the grasping claws of her own morality… if she would be brave enough to do the same.

"But you fought, Mary," Matthew said, cutting through her dark thoughts. "You refused to simply give in, to accept what the world told you. You fought for what should have been your birthright, if not for the frankly moronic laws concerning gender. You would not beg and you would not bow… you came to me as an equal and that is what made me fall in love with you." Mary gasped slightly but Matthew didn't seem to realize what he'd admitted to her as he continued speaking. "It was your spirit, your drive, your passion for life that first drew me… and it was the heart that you hide away from the world that kept me around. Because as much as you like to think you don't feel, Mary, you hide your heart from others because, and I know this to be true, you love so much and so deeply that you can't risk your heart to any save those that will understand just how precious your love is."

She felt like crying again but this time the tears were for a different emotional entirely.

Licking her lips with her tongue, which suddenly felt far too fat and awkward in her mouth, Mary whispered, "And… if I said I didn't want to cry or scream or laugh… but that I wanted to kiss you?"

Matthew leaned in close, closer than he'd ever been before. Closer than was proper.

There were no words.

There was no need.

Mary had always dreamed of her first true kiss. Not the silly ones snuck by children playing games or the light polite ones a woman might give a man that were quite meaningless but were given all the same. And certainly not what Pamuk had done to her after dinner. No, a true kiss, one of love and life and hope and wonder. She'd dreamed of it, as all women and, perhaps, all men did as well. In her mind it had always been so… perfect. Her in one of her finest dresses that showed off her body without being improper, with a long string of pearls around her neck and long dark gloves from fingertips to elbows. Him in a tux, utterly pristine with hair just so and every button polished. It would be night time, of course, and perhaps they would sneak away to the library while the rest of the family were in the drawing room or off someplace else. Or better yet outside, on a chilly night that made her skin go goose pimple but it didn't matter because her heart would be beating in her chest so hard it would chase the cold away. Small delicate snowflakes would fall around them so that it was like they were living in a storybook and the two would come together, her looking up at some wealthy and powerful lord or prince and their lips would meet and it would be… bliss.

Mary had never dreamed her first true kiss would be lying under the covers in one of Downton's guest rooms, wearing her frumpiest night clothes with her hair a mess and her makeup long gone. It wasn't a prince that kissed her or a king or a lord but a middle class lawyer who she'd begun their time together hating only to slowly grow to tolerate and then to love. There was no string quartet to play their theme and no snow and perfect light to bathe the scene.

It was… nothing like she imagined.

And as Mary kissed Matthew she found that it didn't matter.

All that mattered…was the two of them.

~MC~MC~MC~

Author's Notes: So, this chapter brings up an interesting thing… religion in Downton Abbey. Clearly Robert is proud of his religion and was aghast at baby Sybie being baptized Catholic. And yet… the only time we see inside a church is Matthew and Mary's wedding. I decided that the Crawleys would go to church each week, if for nothing else than appearances, while Matthew I would see as being a bit more lapse. It would be easy to say Isobel was the reason but I actually think her giving nature would fit well for a church setting. As such I decided his father was the one that disliked organized religion.

I also, and I only admit this to be honest, will state that Reginald Crawley's views are my religious following. I don't believe in going to a church every Sunday. I believe that religion should be a private, personal thing. I worship on my own and almost never discuss my relationship with God because it is something that is between myself and the All Mighty. If you love the church, whichever one you go to, then that is fine. There is nothing WRONG with going to church… I merely feel, for myself, it is unneeded as I do not like to wear my beliefs on my sleeve. Not because I am ashamed of them… but rather because it is something special that I like to keep close to me.

Alright, enough about me. The rest of the chapter.

First off, I tiny omake:

"And hard to live by but when I was young all I cared about were the sweets." She smiled and Matthew chuckled at that. "Anyway, what matters is that one day Travis began to discuss other sins and other virtues that he felt deserved mention. Papa never asked about those... I suppose he thought Seven were enough on both counts. But I tried to memorize them, in case they would mean another treat. Jealousy and empathy, Cruelty and compassion. Things like that. One of the final ones was resentment and forgiveness. To allow old hurts to fester and never have release... or to let it go."

"Let it go, let it go. Can't hold me back any more!" Matthew sang.

Mary quirked an eyebrow.

"Sorry, something my grandmamma Elsa used to sing."

"Reindeer are better than people," Thomas sang to himself as he walked past the room.

…I REGRET NOTHING!

Also, bonus plot bunny: Matthew's grandmother is Elsa from Frozen and he is in fact destined to take over Arendale. Oh, and he has ice powers. Go. Write.

One of the important things for me, in this chapter, was to show Mary finally deciding to throw away caution and caring about how the upper class are supposed to handle things and instead decide that she is going to do what makes her happy. Not what makes Robert or Cora happy. Her. We saw that begin in Series 2 as she become more down to earth (and if I haven't mentioned it before Series 2 was my favorite of the show… that is when it just got fun and interesting with cool storylines and really began to just embrace being fun and interesting and different). Matthew is making her see that her childhood dreams were just dreams and that now is the time to, strangely enough, both grow up AND stop being so grown up.

One of my issues with the show is that we never really see Matthew and Mary as a courting couple. I mean, they basically go from "Okay, we hate each other" to "Okay, we can share a few moments but we're not friends" to "Hey, we're engaged!" It never felt right to me. I think that is the problem so many shows have with Will They, Won't They Couples… they forget that the courtship can be just as fun and interesting. Learning new things about each other, figuring out how you fit, the awkwardness and the joy. Most shows it is just "Okay, now we are together and… now we are married, hooray!" or "Now we are a perfect couple!". I think there is a ton to mine out of a couple learning how to be a couple and that is what the next several chapters will be about: Matthew and Mary figuring out how they are going to be with each other. How to act. How to treat one another. Moving to the point that Matthew can propose and it doesn't feel like it is coming out of left field.

Two more references, so I am being honest: the part where Mary thinks about high born ladies seducing men comes from Game of Thrones and how the Queen of Thrones stole her sister's intended by screwing him. And the line afterwards about Mary's thoughts in the dark of the night come from The Two Towers concerning Eowyn.

And finally it is Plot Bunny Time!

Right after the first episode of the series the family is at the dinner table and Edith makes mention of the story the Prince and the Pauper and how it made her realize how strange things will be for their soon-to-be-arriving Cousin Matthew. He is being thrust into a strange new world and it will leave him startled and at odds. Mary, being the little snot she was at the beginning of the series, declares that of course he will, he is entering a complex world compared to his basic life. This causes Edith to shoot back that maybe Matthew's life isn't basic and is just as complex as theirs. Mary, again being a spoilt bitch, declares that life for the lower classes is only hard on them because they lack the drive and will to make it easy and someone like Mary could handle things easily enough no matter what her station. The dinner ends on that awkward note and Mary goes to bed…

…only to wake up to find she is sharing a room with Anna and Mrs. Hughes is calling for them to get up and get ready to start the day.

Somehow (magic, most likely) Mary has woken up as a maid in her own family home. There is still a Lady Mary but she has gone to London to 'grieve' and even though the pictures and paintings all show her to look just like Lady Mary no one realizes she is in fact Robert's daughter. She is just the new maid that, on her first day, came down with such a high fever everyone feared she would die. They chalk up her ramblings as her still being sick and while Mr. Carson is firm that she must stop with such talk of being Lady Mary he also understands that the fever is making her delusional.

Thus Mary suddenly has to deal with being part of the downstairs…and all that brings.

I see things like her and Anna growing very close, with Mary learning things about her that she never knew and realizing that while she thought she knew Anna… she never knew her at all. She would see how some of the staff talk about the family (and her!) when they think no one is listening. We'd get character interactions we'd never gotten before… things like Mary and Mrs. Patmore talking or Mary and Bates. Mary would find that she has all the knowledge of the job a low class girl who has just started at Downton should have so she wouldn't be completely useless… but gone would be the days of leasure.

And what would be the most fun… what would happen when Mary, after several months of living this life, tired and worn down… suddenly meets Matthew Crawley who sees her not as a mere maid but someone he is smitten with. And we get the Sybil/Tom romance but with Matthew and Mary instead?